Left for dead in Haiti: How CPJ helped one journalist

Ten years ago I joined the staff of the Committee
to Protect Journalists to launch the Journalist Assistance program, an
initiative, as CPJ board member Gene
Roberts describes, developed to establish a standing direct response
mechanism for journalists facing threats and attacks. When I left the position
in 2009, many people asked me what case stood out the most.

It's not an easy question to answer. In the
eight years I served as the program's coordinator I had the privilege of working
on more than 300 cases. I helped journalists who needed to go into hiding or
exile because of threats against their lives. I arranged for them to receive medical
treatment following brutal attacks, or basic support
while they were in prison. So many individuals remain in my thoughts for
their courage, professional commitment, and indomitable spirits. Some have allowed
me into their lives and families. But there is perhaps one case that most often
comes to mind when I talk about CPJ's assistance work.

In 2004, amid growing civil unrest that culminated
in then-Haitian President Jean-Bertrand Aristide's ouster, CPJ received an
urgent call from our colleagues in Port-au-Prince. Radio journalist Pierre
Elisem was in critical condition after armed men shot
him in the neck, leaving him for dead. As rebel groups encroached on
Port-au-Prince, curfews, frequent electrical shortages and lack of supplies
meant Elisem, paralyzed and fighting massive infections from his injuries, might
not survive if he wasn't evacuated.

The next few days turned into a frantic
scramble of calls to hospitals, colleagues, partner groups, and medevac companies
to find a way to get him to a facility that could accept him in his condition,
with no insurance, not to mention someone willing to fly into the capital in
the middle of a rebel takeover. Funds far more substantial than CPJ's distress
fund could provide had to be raised virtually overnight--while coordinating with
colleagues on the ground working to secure transport to the airport through the
roadblocks and fighting that was spreading through the city's streets.

Against all odds, the plan came together. Elisem
was safely transported to the Dominican Republic, where he received weeks of
treatment in a clinic, followed by several months of outpatient physical rehab
treatment. Slowly, he regained his ability to walk.

Elisem's case remains strong in my memory
certainly because of its urgency--it was a true life-or-death situation--and
because of the large scale of assistance. Elisem himself, a feisty, resilient
character (he's a mile-a-minute talker, even when lying immobile in a hospital
bed) is unforgettable. But more so because it embodies to me many of the complexities
of CPJ's assistance work, its rewards and challenges.

Firstly, as is often the case, Elisem's
rescue would not have been possible without the fast and generous responses of
CPJ's partners and supporters. In two days we secured commitments totalling $20,000
from a dozen parties including groups that would later form
the Journalists in Distress network, journalists in Haiti who made
commitments and organized fundraising on the ground despite the tumultuous
conditions, and the Inter-American Press Association, which not only
contributed but used their contacts to get him admitted to a top clinic in
Santo Domingo.

While funding his evacuation and treatment
was a big piece of the puzzle, just as important was the enormous job of lining
up the necessary resources and services all while troubleshooting and problem-solving
along the way. Even after Elisem received urgent medical care, CPJ sent me to
the Dominican Republic to help with his post-discharge needs--everything from
renting a wheelchair to securing a temporary apartment.

What lingers with me in this case is that
his story and struggles did not end with his exit from critical care. Elisem then
had to cope with painful physical rehab process. He has recovered much of his
mobility, despite initial fears he might be paralyzed for life, but full
movement has been difficult and painful.

Shortly after his arrival in DR, Elisem had
to grapple with questions about his security if he were to return to Haiti,
where his attackers remained at large. Months later, he moved on to Miami and
received asylum in the United States. Jobless, still in recovery, and far from
his close-knit family, it would be years before his situation stabilized. He
still lives in the Miami area and broadcasts from a local station.

In many ways, his is an incredible success
story, but knowing the painful, difficult road Elisem has travelled, the
physical and professional hurdles he still faces today and the emotional toll
of living in exile has led me all too often to question whether we made the
right choices. Could we, should we, have done something differently? Should we
have done more, even at the expense of other journalists in need of our resources?
These questions have no easy answers but asking them over the years about
Elisem and others has made the
program--which, with a new team in place has helped nearly 100 journalists
in the last six months alone--stronger, better informed, and ready to help
others.